Friday 28th February 2020
Turkish: 28 Şubat 2020 Cuma
01:10hrs: Once again, the sleep came in sessions of a few minutes, struggling to get back to kip, and waking-up again. I’m getting fed up with this. So very Agravannoying! I gave up trying to sleep, and rose from the second-hand, £300 recliner, that Brother-in-law Pete broke while he was flat sitting and stealing my valuables and cash. A rarity of late, a wee-wee was needed. So, I got the stick, caught my balance and hobbled quite quickly to the wet room. I noticed that the GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-Wee-Bucket) had not been used yestereve again.
In the wetroom, things got a bit messy. As I whipped down the PP’s, I felt the congealed blood pull away from Little Inchies lesion, causing a spurting of the red stuff and an “Ooyee!” from me, as I took the pee! The wee-wee was another surprise, it was of the BOBSL (Blasting-Out-But-Short-Lived) variety. So different from the last two days weak unwilling, rare trickles.
The cleaning up took a while. As for stopping the leak, that was a masterpiece of cunning on my behalf. (Heads sways with pride!) I had, for the first time in months, had to apply a pad with the Corticosteroid cream, and the last Alginate dressing around it. I thought I might take an extra painkiller when I take the medications, as things were stinging a bit and tender to any touch. But the bulge now in the PPs was something to look at and dream. Hehehehe!
Thank heavens I had the PP’s on, they saved a lot of extra mess to clean up. I got things wiped and finished the medicating, finding that Harolds Haemorrhoids were also bleeding a tad, so washed and Germoloid creamed that area as well. Then got a new pair of PPs on, and gingerly hobbled out to the kitchen. Boy, I smelt like a dispensary! Ah, well!
I got the kettle on and took a snap out of the kitchen window. It was possibly the worst photograph I’ve done in weeks. I wasn’t aware of any shaking, but obviously, there must have been? These mini-shakes often fool me, thanks to the Peripheral Neuropathy I reckon.
As I turned after closing the window, Back-Pain-Brenda gave me one heck of a stab, and she settled down to stay with me, showing her affection frequently. I thought I’d better take the medications now. I got some extra Codeine 30g and tool one with the morning doses.
The stinging from Little Inchies fungal lesion as easing off, at least. I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea and decided to move the trousers and other handwashing from yesterday, near the heater now they were only damp, they would not leak onto the wall heater.
Rumbling and grumbling erupted from the innards. Back to the wet room, I trudged, in haste, just in case, things started off of their own accord again. Nope! In fact, it was another windy false alarm! I got a few crossword clues while sat waiting to see if any movements may develop. Nope!
I checked out Little Inchies Fungal lesion, and I was so pleased to see things had not restarted bleeding. I removed the Alginate dressing, (There went my pretending to be well-endowed!)
Then checked on the condition of the pins. Not bad at all! Yahoo!
Back to the near cold tea, and started to do some work on the CorelDraw, to make a page top graphic. This took me over an hour, which was too long. I must think about this graphicationalisationing lark, enjoyable to me as it is doing them, I can no longer cope with them. After which I started on the updating of the Thursday blog.
I was doing so really well, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were behaving, but Shoulder-Shaking-Shirley and Back-Pain-Brenda both had a ball, giving me hassle!
After finishing and posting the diary, I made a note on the calendar to remind myself to get some new Alginate dressings. The calendar looked very sparse compared to how it usually does. Of course, this sent me into a mini-panic mode! Had I missed something off? Oh, Frecklin-faltering-furious-fermenting-flapping & fear of failure!
Went on the WordPress Reader, then read some comments. Well, the one! The drilling and banging continued, but it can’t be avoided, at least I’m getting out for a while to ease the headache. Haha!
Ablutions time dawned. A few dropsies, but far less than normal. A short Dizzy Dennis attack when in the shower, it frightened me at first, but it was all over in seconds? Then, I got dried of and lubricated and medicated.
The sock-glide battle, I lost. Nicodemus Nigel caused a few finger trappings, and Shaking Shaun arrived as I was putting the frame back on the chair after use. It fell down along my right leg, starting the Clopidogrel scratches to bleed again. Never mind, it could have been worserer!
I got adorned and well wrapped up. I could see it was really belting down out there. Then carried out my pathetic double and treble checking dorrs, tops, electrics etc. all over the flat. And set out with the black bags for the waste chute. The workmen had to make room for me to get through the lift lobby, and they took the bags from me to put down the chute, bless ’em.
In the elevator down to the ground floor lobby. I hobbled along the link passage into Windwood Court’s lobby and called in the ILC’s Obersturmbannführeress Wardens strip-search and interrogation office, and dropped off the Manner Lemon Wafers for each of them. Then into the Winwood Social Lounge.
I nipped out a door, to take a shot of the flooded bottom field in Woodthorpe Grange Park. I shouldn’t have done that, I got soaking wet! Hehe! Schmuck!
We’ve got Storm Jorge due any day now. As if it wasn’t raining and blowing enough already!
Some other residents arrived while I was outside. Welsh William, who lept an eye on me in case the door swipe would not let me back in, and the bookies dread, Malcolm sat with two other unknown to me tenants, and they had a chinwag while waiting to go out for the bus. I went to join in, but it became apparent that my having to keep moving to avoid Arthur Itis’s knees stiffening, and sadly my Stuttering Stephany affliction, was not appreciated. So, I left them to it and poddled to Winchester Court. Plenty of folk about, but none of them was interested in a chinwag. The thought of going out in the ‘Get-You-Wet’ rain for the bus didn’t encourage any nattering.
I poddled out to the bus shelter, but it was full, so stood in the rain waiting, and Caroline arrived and we had a talk between us. The gal has lost more weight again, she has family problems as well, but she kept herself in good spirits, bless her cotton socks.
Most folks bustled onto the Bestwood bound bus. A few got on the City one, as I did. No one to talk to from my side-saddle seat, so I got the crossword book out for the journey. Not that I solved many clues en route this time.
I got off the bus last on Parliament Street. Just as well I did alight last, I might have got crushed or trampled in the mad rush off of the vehicle!
I was not going to stay out too long, but called at the two shops I intended to. Poundland, and the Bargain Shop. (That was previously called Poundstretcher’s) Had a hobble around town taking photographicalisations and getting wetter all the time. I’m going to do a post about the hobble around, in pictures, so won’t duplicate them all on here. Here’s a few of the trip around getting soaked to the skin. Hahaha! I’ll put them all on the other post when I get it done.
I tried to get under shelter to take the Slab Square photos. You would not believe how cold the fingers were, and I had just removed the woolly gloves to take this picture of them poor digits.
I had to keep emptying out the rainwater from the basket top tray.
I got to the Queen Street bus stop, and Shirley joined me. We nattered and caught the bus home. She wisely sat at the back of the bus, so, no nattering again. Out came the crossword book, this time with a modicum of success! My pedagogical limitations on other clues were there normal sort of, ‘Blankness’ mode. Many of the unfinished puzzles were tackled again, but my failure caused dysbulia, and I gave up!
As usual, I got off of the bus at Winwood Heights last. The others who got off first were encouraged by the wind and rain to shoot inside rapidly.
Leaving a lonely old Inchcock, with his walker guide and two bags of shopping hanging from the handlebars, to hobble in their wake, into the Winchester Court lobby. As I made my way through the passage and Winwood Social Lounge, I felt a bit of a wanwit, as none of my ‘Good day’s’, ‘Are you keeping well’s’, or ‘Good Afternoons’ was answered by any of the folks in there? I wondered if I had developed B.O., or my flies were undone? Ah, well! I plodded on through the link-walk into Woodthorpe Courts lift lobby. Caught the elevator up to the I2th floor, and exited into the lobby, the busy workmen’s area. I had a bit of a job to get through to the flats. But, got in after a bit of elbow knocking, trolley tipping, and painful clouting of my left knee on the door frame.
Fatigue overcame me almost immediately for some reason. As I was fumbling to get the bought stuff from the bags, I found I was feeling iracundulous with myself? Self-loathing and hatred flowed, and why? I didn’t really know? Had I forgotten something? Mmm? Not happy with this at all. Well, not happy with not knowing why is more to the point.
I put away the bought items from Poundland. Dettol disinfectant, disposable razors, spray bleach, and sliced Wholemeal rolls. Then the Bargain Shop purchasers: The brown extra-large Throw, Woolite Dark, Oxo vegetable cubes, a jar of beetroot, and a pair of scissors.
By then, I was slumping into an unexpected, unaccountable, depression? So very agravannoying, not knowing why!
I decided to get changed into my night attire and have a wash.
As I took off the trousers, I went to empty the pockets, and there were only a few coins in there, yet I was sure I had a pocketful earlier on? Then, I found the hole in the pocket cotton. I also looked around and discovered the odd coin in the hallway, living room and kitchen! Hahaha! I think I may have lost some in town, on the bus, and walking through the link passages as well, cause there was nothing like the number of coins I’d had after paying up at the Poundland shop! I bet I left a trail everywhere I went! I sealed the hole with some Elephant tape, I hope it works. Miffed with myself about that! (Ah, that should have been Gorilla tape by the way)
My mind turned into a ‘Not-Bothered-Any-More’ mode! I got the nosh prepared, and thought about doing the handwashing. But the ‘Not-Bothered-Any-More’ mode made me Phwert! and leave it undone. I was a smidge surprised I even bothered making anything to eat!
I nipped into the wet room for a rare-today wee-wee, and one of the most painful ever toe-stubbings against the seat-raiser leg somehow shook me partly-out of the depression. I found myself cringing with pain and laughing at my clumsiness, and inarticulacy at the same time? I washed and as I left the wet room, things were lighter, brighter, less worrying?
Back to the kitchen to get the meal served up. Feeling in much better spirits. Even my dropping one of the wholemeal Dagwood style tomato and ham cobs on the floor didn’t annoy me! Although struggling painfully to get back up from the floor, after retrieving the aforementioned food, rattled me a touch. Humph!
Again, getting to sleep took hours. When I did drop off, I woke an hour or so later, and I’d had the pleasure of a dream. I was flying as Superman would, on a starry night, with a cat, that I believe was Tim ‘Hancock’s ‘Silver’, flying at my side, and talking to me in an American toned voice, maybe we were racing each other somewhere, no more details available in the brain-box, I’m afraid.
I soon nodded off again. (Nice!)